I used to think I was alone
here within myself
alone in my struggle to be
who
I thought
I ought
to be . . .
Shame is shit
From toddlerhood we are taught
to hold it, control it, to flush it into oblivion
Yet, try as we might
we are never free of it . . .
My heart’s wound is an old old story /
It chatters in the background day and night . . .
Let us remember and lay to rest
a creature so compliant
that she took the rules
and swallowed them whole
creating her own iron maiden
Posted on January 1, 2020
I wrote that “For Celeste” poem in 2012 when I was in the middle of a health crisis that had set me on a path of desperately seeking a new way of living, a new way of understanding and treating myself, and deeper healing of the trauma and deprivation of my childhood. I had been […]
Posted on January 1, 2020
For Celeste
I see you, though you try to hide
Blending into the wall
Daughter of a defective mother …